


things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember

by Fluffypanda



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Childhood Friends, Curses, Inspired by Anastasia (1997), M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, SteveTony Secret Santa 2017, but not an au or fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 12:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/pseuds/Fluffypanda
Summary: A curse, set to complete by winter's endChildhood friends, separated by many yearsThe memories that connect them, lost.





	things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hell_Stark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hell_Stark/gifts).



> This is my gift for [Hell13th](http://hell13th-blog.tumblr.com/) as part of the [Steve Tony Secret Santa](https://stevetonysecretsanta.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I didn't have time to do justice to an Anastasia au, but I took a bit of inspiration from the movie! I tried to include some of the things you requested like winter, cuddling, and Bucky/Nat. It's not very long, but I hope you like it!

A boy with a scrapped knee and corn silk hair hopped from foot to foot as he waited outside a lavish city mansion. He was small for his age, seven, and terribly skinny. The boy waited and waited, eventually settling against wrought-iron fence surrounding the mansion when it became apparent he was going to be there awhile.

He looked about to give up, shuffling away from the fence with a disappointed look on his face, when someone hissed for his attention. Seconds later, another boy, this one with a wild mop of brown curls and a shy smile, squeezed through the fence.

“You’re late!” The blond boy cried.

The other boy pouted, kicking a pebble at his feet. “My dad made me talk to someone from some dumb school.”

“Eww. You should just come to my school. Bucky’s there, he’s really cool.”

“You talk about him a lot.” The brown-haired boy crossed his arms.

“He’s great! He gave me paper so I could make this for you!” The blond boy said, presenting a drawing earnestly. “You gave me that wind-up dog, so I wanted to make something for you. Do you like it?”

The other boy’s face lit up like the sun. “I love it!”

 

*: ･ﾟ✧

 

Steve pulled his thin coat tighter around him and began trudging through the rapidly accumulating snow. Horse-pulled carriages competed with automobiles for space on the road. People passed Steve on the street, ignoring the tattered remains of this year’s yule decorations that hung from every lamp post.

A boy, in an even more ragged coat than Steve’s, stood on corner, hawking newspapers. “Scandal at the Department of Curses and Enchantments!” he called over the din of traffic. “Are Khristenko and Yurevich in bed with magic users!? Find out here!”

Steve’s hands were numb and his feet were frozen in his boots by the time he saw the carved wooden sign, covered in snow, but still recognizable as the falcon Steve knew it to be.

He entered the bar and was immediately enveloped in warmth. Sam sat at the counter reading the paper and Steve could hear Bucky and Natasha in the kitchen.

“What have you got for me today, Sam?” Steve took his apron off its hook near the bar and tied it around his waist. “Chopping wood? Unloading deliveries?”

Sam folded up his paper. “How about we start with bringing up a new barrel of Sundjask Imperial? Then we’ll see about getting some food in you.”

“I hope it’s not the slop you serve here.” Steve said loud enough that his voice would carry.

“I heard that!” Bucky shouted from the kitchen, never one to ignore Steve’s ribbing. “This slop was good enough to get me a wife, which is more than I can say for you!”

“I can tell you, Natasha didn’t marry you for your cooking!”

“Damn right I didn’t!” Natasha added then there was a smack and the sound of Bucky yelping.

Sam laughed and shook his head as he unlocked the basement door. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Once the barrel was set up in its place behind the bar, Bucky and Natasha joined them at the bar with bowls of steaming stew and golden brown rolls. Despite Steve’s teasing, Bucky had more than enough skill to hold down the kitchen here at the Falcon and they all dug in with relish.

Sam picked up his paper again, looking over the front page. “Did you hear? Yurevich is under investigation after that thing with the Xaviers.”

“It’s about time. They are completely incompetent. It’s like they don’t even want to catch the bastards using illegal magic,” Bucky grumbled into his stew. Natasha rubbed his back supportively.

The subject really hit home for Bucky, it was thanks in part to illegal magic that he lost his arm. The Curse Busters never caught the culprit, they only ever really tried for the high profile cases anyway.

It wasn’t the first or last time the government let Bucky down and Steve could empathize. Every year he was bled dry by their taxes, getting little in return. 

Sam frowned and tossed his paper back down. “Tell me about it. They still haven’t figured out who cursed Stark.”

“Stark?” Steve’s heart pounded at the familiar name. It always did despite all the years that had gone by. “Tony Stark? What happened to him?”

“Didn’t you hear? Back at the beginning of winter, Tony Stark was hit with a memory curse.”

 

*: ･ﾟ✧

 

_You seek…_

The words, the first ones Tony could remember hearing, danced through his brain, much like how he moved through the mansion, looking for a trace of anything familiar in his childhood home. A trinket here, a portrait there, they tugged at him like a word on the tip of his tongue, but not a memory was to be found.

After more than a month of being shoved in front of strangers—everyone was a stranger to Tony now—Tony knew it wasn’t going to work.

Every one of them expected someone else in Tony’s place, whether he knew them before or not, and based on who they expected, Tony wonder if it was even worth getting his memories back. Perhaps he should just let them disappear with the last of the snow.

_…to forget the past…_

He had to know: was he really the arrogant, irresponsible man everyone thought he was?

It took some convincing to get that woman, Pepper, to leave him to search the empty halls of Stark mansion alone. She’d been near frantic in her search for anyone that could possibly be Tony’s true love before winter’s end, but agreed to give him a few days in the sealed mansion.

_You will learn…_

The floorboard creaked under Tony’s foot and he paused. A dim ember of something, not really a memory so much as an instinct, prompted him to get down on his knees and pry it up. The floor board came loose in an explosion of dust.

Underneath a small wooden box rested amidst a mess of cobwebs. Tony ran his fingers over the picture of a knight someone had clumsily pasted on the cover. _To protect what lay within_ , he thought.

Tony opened it, revealing a collection of cast metal figures, pressed flowers, and marbles—a child’s treasures. A carefully folded sheet of paper hid at the bottom of the box, full of promise. Tony picked it up reverently, hardly breathing as he unfolded it.

_…how important the past can be_

Nothing. No memories tumbled loose. Tony let the air escape his lungs, disappointed despite himself. It was just a drawing, skillful if childish, of two boys, one blond, one brown-haired, with a mechanical dog between them.

Tony refolded the paper and stuck it in his jacket pocket, near his heart.

 

*: ･ﾟ✧

 

With trembling hands and a swift prayer for his courage to hold, Steve rang the bell by the gate outside Stark mansion as he’s dreamed of for years. A bubbling sense of urgency ate at Steve as he paced in the snow, but no one came to let him in or even chase him away. Winter was already more than half over, if he didn’t break the curse soon–

Shaking his head, he stopped in his tracks. He was getting ahead of himself, he didn’t even know if he could break the curse. What would be the odds that Steve would be Tony’s true love after all these years? Tony clearly had forgotten him long before the curse. But he had to at least try.

Steve headed around the back of the mansion to the sheltered spot where he used to meet with Tony. Though he was much too large to fit between the bars now, the tall, wrought-iron fence didn’t loom as intimidatingly as it did when Steve was a child. Keeping an eye out for passersby, Steve climbed the fence and dropped down on to the mansion grounds.

He’d never actually been inside despite all those times he played with Tony; Tony had claimed it was too dangerous with his father around. The grounds were huge, dominated by a vast garden hidden beneath the snow, but Steve could see a clear path to the house.

A series of grimy glass doors and windows faced the gardens, beyond lay a ballroom. Steve discovered the lock was broken on one of the doors and was able to jimmy it open without too much trouble.

Steve left a trail of footprints in the thick dust coating the ballroom floor as he passed through. It must have once been beautiful, judging by the swooping, cobweb-covered chandeliers and polished floors.

Wondering why everything was in such a state of disrepair, Steve continued through the mansion. He heard that no one had lived here since the elder Starks died so suddenly about sixteen years ago, but surely there was enough money to ensure the mansion’s upkeep.

Steve fiddled with the wind-up dog in his pocket, something that had been a treasure possession for years.

Steve froze at the sound of a gun being cocked.

“Put your hands up and turn around slowly,” someone said in a harsh baritone. Steve did as he’d been ordered and let out a soft gasp.

Tony was just as Steve remembered him, down to his warm brown eyes and floppy cow licked curls, yet he was filled with the sense he was facing a complete stranger. Steve had never seen such a guarded, almost angry look on Tony’s handsome face. Perhaps these weren’t the best circumstances to reunite, but Steve had, foolishly he now realized, hoped for some spark of recognition.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Tony held the gun steady as he spat each word.

What had been Steve thinking? “I—uh, I’m here because—”

“Get out!” Tony growled.

Steve fled without another word.

 

*: ･ﾟ✧

 

As he put his gun down, Tony’s foot hit something that went clattering across the floor. He bent down to pick it up, his fingers closing around the polished metal dog. One of the ears came to a jagged edge where it had broken, the sharpness worn away by time.

Something about the dog nagged at Tony until he pulled the drawing from his breast pocket. The dog in his hand resembled the one in the drawing in all but size. His heart beat hopefully. This was important, it had to be.

Tony ran after the man, be he was already out of sight. Then Tony spotted his tracks in the snow, leading through the garden. Dashing after them, Tony finally caught up with him near the fence.

“Wait! Where did you get this!” Tony shouted, holding up the little dog.

The man stopped and cocked his head curiously, his hand reaching into his pocket. He looked down in surprise when he found it empty. “You gave it to me.”

Tony shoved the drawing at him. “What about this?”

The man blinked owlishly. “I drew it.”

Knowing in his heart that the man was telling the truth, Tony took a steadying breath. “Why did you come here?”

“I hoped I could help break your curse. I don’t know why, it was silly of me to think…” The man coughed, blushing. “You don’t deserve this, Tony.”

Tony gazed into the man’s earnest blue eyes. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do.”

Tony kissed him. Memories came flooding in. Of playing with Steve, of being sent away to school, of fighting with his parents, a cascade of one moment after another, each playing its part in shaping who he was.

“Steve?” Tony said, opening eyes that he hadn’t realized he shut.

“Tony?” Steve asked breathlessly, “You remember?”

“Every moment,” Tony said, wiping his cheeks.

Steve threw his arms around him and drew him into a hug. Tony felt safe and warm in his arms.

His head buried in Steve’s chest, Tony couldn’t resist saying, “I’m glad that worked. Otherwise this would have been awkward.”

 

*: ･ﾟ✧

 

Steve wrapped Tony in his arms, tucking him beneath his chin so the curls of his hair tickled Steve’s neck. Apparently finding this agreeable, Tony laced his fingers through Steve’s and settled his warm weight more firmly on Steve’s lap. Smiling brighter than the sun and not quite able to believe his luck, Steve pressed a series of kisses to the crown of Tony’s head.

“Do you remember that stray dog we found?” Tony asked, leaning his head back to look up at Steve.

“Dog?” Steve muttered, his eyebrows knit in concentration. “Oh! That tiny thing you were so scared of?”

“It tried to bite my foot off!”

“Yet you still tried to sneak it into your house.”

“We could have used an attack dog.”

“You are so full of it.” Tony made a noise of affront, but settled down when Steve took up stroking his thumb with his own. The incident with the dog was probably when Steve first fell for Tony. “Attack dog! You’re the only one that’d be scared of it.”

“Well what about this? Do you remember—” Steve cut him off with a kiss.

There would be plenty of time to remember later.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love comments.


End file.
